


Carry Your Burden

by TheItsyBitsyWriter



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anti-Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes recovers, Bucky and Steve are the only ones present, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical dickheadery from Tony Stark, Civil war never happens, Feels, I really hate the guy, In any case they don't fuck in this one, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, Past Sex?, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Recovery, Something New, Songfic, Sort Of, Tags Are Hard, also, implied sex, lots of feels, maybe later - Freeform, not yet, original characters are mentioned, other characters are only mentioned, past relationship, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19424005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheItsyBitsyWriter/pseuds/TheItsyBitsyWriter
Summary: "I wanna love you, forever I do.I wanna spend all of my days with you.I'll carry your burdens and be the wind at your back.I wanna spend my forever,Forever like that."ORWhere Bucky recovers from the trauma of everything, and remembers that he loved Steve, and Steve loved him too. Will he tell Steve or will he keep quiet? Whatever he chooses, he knows he still loves Steve.





	Carry Your Burden

**Author's Note:**

> See what happened was that I was trying to write a fic where Steve supports Bucky through his traumas... but it turned around halfway through, all by itself, and I'd already spent too much time on it to delete it.  
> So I decided to make this a separate fic and to write that other fic some other time.  
> Fair warning, though, this does have some Anti-Tony undertones to it (though they are very canon-accurate and factual), and if you don't like that sort of thing, please click off right now, because this is my work, this is my safe space, where I share my thoughts on things the way I see them. I really don't want to see anyone going off on me and my work and my opinions, when I've already posted a disclaimer. Also, it's right there on my profile, I am Anti-Tony Stark, and always will be.  
> Comments and Kudos and Constructive Criticism is always much appreciated.  
> So without further ado (and further ugliness), I truly hope you guys enjoy this chapter :) x

For as long as Bucky Barnes can remember, his life had been nothing but pain— physically, mentally, emotionally agonizing pain; whether it came from fighting off guys much larger than him because they were beating Steve, in some back alley in the early 1900s, or being tortured in unknown HYDRA facilities in remote parts of the world throughout the late seventy years of his life. Whether it came from the death of his only sister at a very young age, or the first time someone brutally crushed his fragile heart. It’s all been a big blur of pain and misery, and that’s how Bucky remembers it— now that he _has_ the luxury to just sit and remember it all— or at least _try_ to.

Besides all the pain, there are a few instances in Bucky’s life that he regrets, and it’s surprising that there’s only a few of them, because Bucky recalls himself always having been the kind to live in the moment. He recalls an afternoon where he told a small, skinny, and sickly Steve Rogers that: “You always gotta live in the now, ‘cause tomorrow’s not guaranteed.” So if Bucky Barnes has only a few regrets; then that’s surprising, because truly, he’d never been one to make good decisions. His decisions usually ended up in worst-case scenarios.

But those regrets that he’s always thinking of, they’re so few that he can actually count them all down, at any given time. For instance, one of his regrets is his the first time he kissed someone: he was thirteen years old, and he kissed Kate Twist, who was three years his senior, who went around the next day saying it never happened and made him look like a lovesick fool… and not only that, she was a genuinely bad person (and kisser) as he later found out.

His second regret, which far outweighs his first regret, is leaving Steve alone at Eddie McGinley’s party, back when they were fifteen. Sherry Roland had whispered in his ear that she’d wanted him like _that_ and all his inhibitions had flown right out of the window. He hadn’t even asked Steve if he was okay with being by himself in the crowded place before taking off up the stairs with Sherry. And by the time he’d come back down with her, his shirt rumpled, his belt hastily done, and his hair awfully messed up; Steve was gone. It took Bucky five minutes to gather enough information about what had happened, and then he was running out of the house and taking off down the street back towards Steve’s house. That night, he sat outside Steve’s bedroom, with his back pressed to the door and meaningless apologies tumbling from his lips. But of course, shortly after midnight, Steve had unlocked the door to let him in, and he’d spent the night curled around Steve, still apologizing for the awful things Billy Fuller and Andy Marshall had said. Of course, the very next day, Bucky had gone down to the Billy and Andy’s houses and had beaten the crap out of them. But he still regretted ever leaving Steve.

His third regret is leaving Steve _again_ , and getting shipped off to England. But more than that, he regrets not coming home earlier than he did that night after the expo, and holding Steve as closed as he could to his chest. Actually, regrets ever going off with those girls at the expo, and leaving Steve in the hands of Dr. Erskine. If only he’d abandoned the girls and had dragged Steve home, they’d have stayed in their little apartment, wrapped all up in each other, limbs entwined in their little bed.

His fourth regret is not kissing Steve goodbye before he went off to war. He regrets tracing his thumb against those plush lips but not swooping down to steal a kiss. Of course, there had been plenty of kisses, or love confessions the night before, but he regrets not kissing his sweetheart goodbye the morning he’d left. He’d only given Steve a long hug, and had told him he loved Steve, and then he’d left, with a promise to never stop writing.

His fifth and final regret, which is very selfish of him, is telling Steve he was okay with Steve finding a woman for himself afterwards. He never should have said that, because if he hadn’t, Steve wouldn’t have found Peggy, and he would never have fallen in love with her, and out of love with Bucky.

Even today, as Bucky sits safely in Steve’s— no, Steve’s and _his_ apartment in New York City, the atmosphere in the spacious place always thick with something Bucky just can’t quite put his finger on, he wonders how things would have been if he’d never set Steve free. He feels guilty, of course, and he hates himself a little more each time he thinks it, but he just can’t stop. Because ever since he remembered the nature of his and Steve’s relationship before the war, the brainwashing, the torturing, and the Winter Soldier, he’s been

In 2014, Bucky pulled Steve out of the Potomac and left him bleeding on the riverbank, and a week later, Steve found Bucky in the rundown house he’d been squatting in, in Washington, and never let go after that. Steve had struggled a lot after that, and Bucky had struggled along with him. Nicholas Fury had helped them as much as he could, and so had Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff, and the rest of Steve’s friends— excluding Howard Stark’s son.

Bucky had refused to accept all forms of help from Howard’s son (because he’d remembered just what the Soldier had done to Howard and his wife)— not that Anthony had offered any help— he’d merely yelled at Steve when he’d been told about Bucky, and had demanded for Bucky to face trial, because according to him, several dead people deserved justice against an innocent man, but that was besides the point. Steve had been furious at that, and he’d yelled back into the thin black device he’d been using to talk to Howard’s son— which Bucky had later learned was called a “cell phone”, and when Steve looked like he was about to lose his temper completely, Bucky had snatched the mobile away from Steve, yelled: “Mind your own fucking business, and leave us alone!” into it and chucked it against the wall. That was the last Bucky had heard from Howard’s son, and he was more than happy with it— he’d never even met the guy and he already was not fond of him. Because if the stories Sam, Natasha, Clint Barton, Thor (who was a _God_!), Dr. Banner, Maria Hill, and Wanda Maximoff had told him about Stark were true, then Bucky did not want anything at all to do with the man. Steve, on the other hand, never talked about Stark’s son to Bucky, not that the brunette ever wanted him to.

The whole ordeal with Stark’s son was a story for another day, and beside the current point, which was the struggle Bucky had with himself every day, ever since Steve had dragged him out of the rundown house in Washington, and into a beautiful townhouse in central Virginia— that was Sam Wilson’s house, and that was where Steve and Bucky had stayed for five days, before Steve had found an apartment for the both of them, which was where they’d lived ever since. In the start, Steve didn’t want Bucky anywhere near Sam or any of his other friends, and Bucky understood that very well; because he was a threat— not only to others but to himself, as well, his mind was fragile, and he didn’t have any control over it. So Steve had braved against the lurking danger of the Soldier all by himself for a good month— not that the Soldier ever made an appearance, before Fury called in a few favors and got in touch with the Kingdom of Wakanda, and once presented with the very complex case of one Sergeant James B. Barnes, their brand-new King T’Challa agreed to help as much he and his Kingdom could. But it was the Princess of Wakanda, Shuri, who treated Bucky, wiped his mind of all the things that HYDRA had put in there, and restored the stems that had something to do with his memories. Princess Shuri had instantly become Bucky’s second-favorite person in the whole world, and then his savior, and for that, Bucky Barnes would always be grateful, loyal, and indebted (even though Shuri herself had shrugged his gratitude off, saying: “Undoing racist white men’s years’ worth of hard work in a few months was very satisfying.” And Bucky wholeheartedly agreed with her) to her.

And it was actually Princess Shuri presenting the medical reports of the procedures conducted on Bucky’s fragile mind, and then testifying for him in a United States Court of Law, that had gotten him off all the charges against him. Of course, Shuri wasn’t the only one who had helped with his case; Dr. Bruce Banner (who Bucky later learned wasn’t the United States’ favorite person) had helped with the medical reports as well, and then he’d testified on behalf of Bucky. Natasha, Clint, Thor (whose presence had struck the fear of God in everyone present in the court), Maria, Sam, King T’Challa, General Okoye, and Steve had testified for him, as well. They’d all been witnesses to Bucky Barnes’s slow but progressive recovery and him changing back into the person he used to. They’d all played a pivotal role in Bucky getting his life, and his own self back, and for that; he was grateful for them, he would be loyal to them for always, and he loved each and every single one of them. At that point, if they told him to take a bullet for them, he’d have gladly done with a moment’s hesitation. They were Bucky’s family now.

All of that had happened almost a year ago, Bucky was now a free man, possessing free will, and full remembrance of his past. He was not the Winter Soldier anymore, he still possessed the unrelenting fury, the determination, and the skill set, but he longer had the bloodlust and the robotic mentality— even his bionic arm was replaced by Princess Shuri, so it no longer represented the monster HYDRA had created, instead it represented the Kingdom of Wakanda. Shuri had remade the entire thing so intricately that Bucky could even _feel_ now; it was now made with dark Vibranium and pure gold in its seams— it was a thing of beauty now, not violence and aggression. Bucky was not afraid of anything at this point, not even HYDRA, which had ceased to exist. Unbeknownst to him, during his recovery and treatment in Wakanda, Steve and the rest had gone about the business of tracking down HYDRA bases and destroying every single one— capturing as many as they could, and killing the rest. They’d even gone as far as Serbia, and had destroyed almost every single facility in existence, along the way. And those that were left unscathed soon became victim to Bucky Barnes’s wrath, shortly after he’d won his trial.

Today, Bucky was beyond grateful to live in world free of HYDRA’s venom. It had been burned to the ground so badly, that no other branches ever dared to sprout, and if anything ever did, it would be brutally chopped down way before it got a chance to rear its ugly head.

Today, Bucky Barnes is a free man, and he remembers. And ever since the day he’d remembered what he was before it all, he’d been at war with himself. He had told Steve that he remembered, but he didn’t tell him just how much. For instance, he remembered Steve being the last thing he saw each night before falling asleep, kissing him awake each morning, Bucky’s name tumbling out from his mouth in a long moan, or a short gasp. He remembered his lips fitting on top of Steve’s, and he remembers Steve’s tiny body somehow fitting Bucky’s impressive size inside of him, and he remembers that moment feeling like coming home. Steve has always been Bucky’s home, and now Bucky remembers it, and he wonders just how long he can keep that to himself. He'd only remembered about the nature of their relationship in the past, about six months ago, and he'd been tight-lipped ever since.

There’s music coming from behind Bucky’s closed door and his gaze flickers up to it, and he knows it’s coming from Steve’s bedroom across the hallway. Their two-bedroom apartment wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to fit their old apartment inside of it three times. The song is a famous one, and Bucky smiles to himself as he recalls the times he and Steve would dance in the living room of their apartment, listening to the sound of Mr. Ackerman’s (who lived in the apartment directly above theirs) radio playing those songs. And Bucky sighs, decides that enough is enough, and stands from his bed. He crosses the room towards the door in four long steps and is out in the hallway within the minute.

The door to Steve’s bedroom is always left half-open at night. In a seemingly endless invitation for Bucky to come in whenever he pleases, because Steve _wants_ him to, but Bucky refused once in the start, and Steve never asked again, so Bucky never went in at night. Well, something’s are going to have to change tonight. Nonetheless, he knocks on the half-open door when he reaches it and lights flicker on in the room. Then Steve comes into view almost immediately afterwards, dressed in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs and a thin white t-shirt.

“Buck?” He asks, sounding a little confused, and looking a little sleepy. Bucky realizes that he was probably about to go to bed. Steve’s frowning slight, “Buck, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s all fine. I just— I wanted to talk about something. Is this a bad time?” Bucky asks, deliberately forcing his eyes to stay on Steve’s face and not travelling south.

“No, of course not, come on in.” Steve says, stepping backwards and pulling his door further open. He doesn’t wait for Bucky to enter his room, turns around and says, “Let me just put some pants on.”

“Okay…” Bucky says, nodding slowly as he enters Steve’s room and looks around— he’s been a hundred and one times before, but never in this context, never to talk about just what he’s planning on talking about. He sits down on the side of the bed while Steve rummages through his closet.

Steve sits down next to Bucky on the bed after he’s found a pair of gray sweatpants and put them on. He sits with one leg tucked under him, facing Bucky, who is deliberately staring at his hands folded in his lap. “Buck? What’s on your mind, pal?”

“I…” Bucky begins, but realizes he has no words— no, he has no _right_ words, because where is he supposed to start with this? What’s he supposed to say that won’t make Steve freak out on him and run out of the house?

But then Steve’s fingers are softly ghosting over his bare arm, and goose bumps follow his trail. He shifts closer after a minute, and rests his hand firmly on Bucky’s shoulder. “Talk to me, Buck, I’m here for you, always.” And he sounds so earnest that Bucky decides then and there that this is a bad idea, and apparently it shows on his face because Steve’s hand leaves his shoulder and his fingers begin to gently play with the hairs at the bottom of Bucky’s neck. “You do know that there’s nothing in this world that’ll push me away, right?”

And he sounds so sincere, and his fingers feel so good that Bucky finds himself leaning in to his touch a little bit, but it’s not unusual, because Steve has always had that effect on Bucky. He sighs, and decides _fuck it_ , and says, “I remember, Steve.”

A small smile makes its way onto Steve’s face and he nods, “I know you do, Buck, and I’m so happy that you—”

“No, Steve, you don’t understand— I _remember_ … everything.” There’s still a small frown on Steve’s face; he’s still so confused, he doesn’t understand. So Bucky nods to himself and with a firm resolute, turns so he’s facing Steve, whose hand falls from his neck, and Bucky catches it between his own, and laces their fingers together. “Steve, I remember what we were _before_.”

Suddenly, Steve’s breath hitches, his fingers tighten painfully around Bucky’s and his face goes expressionless, then it morphs into slow terror, and he begins to pull his fingers back, and Bucky realizes that he’s losing him; that Steve is going on lock down and once it’s done, they won’t get to talk about this, they’ll just brush it under the rug like the million and one other things they just _don’t talk about_. So Bucky releases Steve’s hand and instead rests his own on the side of Steve’s neck. “I’m sorry, Steve, I don’t mean to startle you. But I can’t keep this secret any longer, ‘cause I’ve done it for long, and I just can’t anymore, and I’m sorry if you were trying to forget. You had to know, Steve, I had to tell you.”

The familiar frown returns to Steve’s face and his expression hardens, “Wait— you’ve kept the secret? How long have you remembered, Buck?”

“It doesn’t matter, Steve, I’m just sorry for laying this on you, when you were probably trying to forget about it—”

“How long have you known, Bucky?” Steve’s voice is harder than it’s ever been with Bucky, and he shrugs his hand off.

“It’s been a— a while. I guess a few months, maybe six? Steve, I don’t understand, what does it matter?”

“You’ve known that I loved you for six months, and you— what? Just couldn’t be bothered to share that with me? What were you trying to achieve, more of my suffering?”

“Your— your suffering? Steve, what the hell are you talking about?” Bucky was panicking now; he truly had no clue what Steve was talking about. He’d imagined Steve would try to laugh, say that it was them being stupid kids and messing around. Hell, he could imagine Steve _laughing_ at him, but not this.

Steve stands up then, and ran his hands through his hair. He walks away from Bucky and into the corner of the room. Everything is quiet for a minute before Steve speaks, quiet and low, “How could you do this to me, Bucky? I never—”

“Steve, what are you talking about? I don’t understand. I never should have told—”

“If you knew that I loved you, and that you loved me too, why did you never say anything?” Steve asks, his voice shaking. He’s terrified, and Bucky can honestly match his terror with his shock. Steve doesn’t care, apparently, because he continues in his shaking voice, “I waited for so long for something— _anything_ … from you. Even a slight change in the way you looked at me, anything to tell me you felt the same. And you’re telling me now, that all this time… and you just _watched_ me suffer silently? Thanks, Bucky; thank you for that.”

Bucky feels like he’s going to cry and he doesn’t know if it’s out of joy or heartbreak or sadness. So he stands from his spot and approaches Steve, slowly reaching out to hold his arms where they’d crossed on his chest. “I am so sorry, Steve. I didn’t know that you— I thought you’d hate me if I told you. I thought you’d shut me out because you moved on and I never did.”

“Move— moved on? Buck, I never moved on!” Steve says, shrugging out of Bucky’s grasp and walking back towards the bed. “I spent all those years pining after you, hoping you’d come back from the War just as you were. And when you were gone, what did I do? I tried to go with you, and it didn’t work and that’s not my fault, okay? I could’ve jumped out of the _Valkyrie_ , I could have— but I didn’t, because there was no point of me without you. The moment that plane hit the ice, I remember thinking _finally, Buck, I’m coming to you_. I spent seventy years in ice, Buck, and the moment I woke up, d’you know what my first thought was?” Steve asked, turning to look at Bucky, and when he shook his head, Steve continued, “It was _you_ , you stupid fucker. I thought of you the moment I woke up, ‘cause I didn’t care about anything, I just thought of you and the day we’d gone to see the Dodgers play. You were all I thought of, Buck. The moment I stepped out into New York City, I thought you’d have liked it here. You were my last and my first thought, so how could you ever say I moved on? I never did, I couldn’t, I didn’t want to.”

Bucky was stunned into silence, so the only thing he could get out, “But… but Peggy?”

“God, Buck, I love her, I really do. ‘Cause she’s the best thing to have happened to me during that awful time you weren’t there. But she’s not the one I spent every year since my awakening, mourning. She’s not the one I want to hold every night I fall asleep, and be the first thing I see each morning. I love her, but I’m not in love with her. It’s you, Buck, it’s always been you, and it’ll always be you.”

Bucky crosses the room in two long steps and then he’s got Steve in his arms, crushed to his chest. And Steve’s crying now, tears rapidly slipping down his face, disappearing into Bucky’s night-shirt, as he clutches desperately on to the fabric. “God, Steve, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I’ve been so stupid. I’m sorry.” Bucky’s muttering endlessly, his hands moving quickly all over Steve: his back, his arms, his hair, his neck, all over him. And Steve’s still crying, nodding into Bucky’s shoulder, tears disappearing into cotton before they’ve even had a chance to appear.

His hands are clutching Bucky’s shoulders from behind and he’s nodding still, “You should be sorry, you jerk.”

“I am, I really, really am. And I’ll spend another seventy years making it up to you, because I’ve been so stupid. ‘Cause God damn it, Stevie, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

Steve lets out a noise, that’s a strange combination between a sob and a chuckle, and then he’s pulling away from Bucky just enough to see his face. “D’you mean that?”

And Bucky watches Steve; watches the tear-tracks on his face, the redness around his eyes, the way he sniffs after every ten seconds and how his mouth just looks so damn gorgeous. So instead of replying with his words, he leans in and captures Steve’s lips in a slow, languid kiss, and all his thoughts are suddenly and blissfully obliterated. For the first time that day, Bucky’s mind becomes a blank canvas, and everything gets painted over with thoughts of Steve. The worries that usually surround him evaporate like a summer shower onto a hot car.

High on endorphins, he only wants to touch Steve, everywhere and anywhere he can. So Bucky’s hands move under Steve’s nightshirt, and feel the firmness of his abdomen, they trace upwards over the ridges of his abs. And in a few moments the soft caress becomes more firm and Bucky all but devours Steve’s lips, and the quickening of Steve’s breath matches his own down to the very last beat of his heart. A kiss like this is a beginning, a promise of much more to come.

And when they finally part for much-needed oxygen, their foreheads rest together and they’re wearing matching goofy grins. Steve pulls back to look at Bucky and smiles, “God, I wish you’d done that six months ago.”

“Better late than never.” Bucky replies, smiling unabashedly, because he is so God damn happy. He doesn’t remember feeling this kind of happiness in a long time. “I am sorry, Stevie, I never—”

“Shut up, seriously, just… let’s make that one of the things we don’t talk about. We have time now, you have me, and I finally have you. We can do things right this time around, we’re free to.”

Bucky nods and kisses Steve quickly before he hugs himself around Steve, and sighs. “We have forever, don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do, Buck.”

“Good, because I’d like to spend forever in your bed, in your heart, and in your arms. _Please_ tell me I can.”

Steve smiles, presses his lips on top of Bucky’s forehead and mumbles into warm skin, “Yeah, you can. You’re already in my heart and in my arms, so go on and get into my bed so we can spend our forever doing some more… _remembering_.”

Bucky’s silent for a minute before he hums happily into Steve’s neck, “Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“You’re a kinky little shit, you know that, right?”

“I do. And I know that you love me for it.

“’Course I do. Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... that was what I came up at two a.m.  
> I clearly do have a life :)  
> This work (as do all the rest of my works) remains largely unedited, so if you guys see any mistakes, please do tell me so I can fix them and save myself the embarrassment of looking like a clown who apparently doesn't know English (even though it isn't my first language, yikes).  
> Hope you guys enjoyed it x


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